The Oil Tycoon and Her Sexy Sheikh

He sighed. “Come on, let’s see what we can do about it.”


He cleared a space on his desk and brought out the contract. She moved her chair nearer and they both pored over it. “Here,” he said pointing at a line. “We need to specify exactly what provisions should be made in case of an endangered species discovered near the rig.”

Olivia nodded and listened to his suggestions, then made a few of her own. Together they worked section by section through the entire document. Eventually, Khaled leaned back in his chair and looked at her.

“That’s it,” he said. “We’ll get it written up with all the amendments. And then I’ll sign it.”

She drew in a long breath. She’d done it. He was going to sign. “You’re sure?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been impressed with everything I’ve seen of your company. And you were right, my people do deserve this.”

“Yes.”

“And…” His lips twisted ruefully. “I want to do it for you. To give you your dream.”

Her mouth went dry. He was doing this for her?

“You deserve it, Livvy. You’re brilliant and your father is a fool for not realizing it years ago. You won this contract, and I’ll make sure he knows it.”

She took a deep breath. She ought to say yes. She wanted this contract, she wanted the job. She wanted Khaled, but she couldn’t have him.

It felt as if the contract was a consolation prize. He was offering her this like some men gave their girlfriends jewelry to say good-bye. Olivia wouldn’t have a necklace or a pair of earrings to remember Khaled by—she’d have an oil rig in the Persian Gulf.

“You have to do it for the right reasons, Khaled.”

His mouth twisted. “I know why I’m doing it.”

“What does your father say?”

“He says it is my decision. He is not well enough to think about it any further.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “It is not your fault.

Olivia swallowed hard, unsure why she was suddenly overcome with emotion. Khaled’s voice was weary and his eyes were hooded. She stood and held out her hand to him, to shake on their agreement, but he ignored her hand and put his arms around her waist.

“Khaled?”

“I know it’s not allowed. I just… I need you, Livvy.” He rested his head on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

“I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s my father. He’s getting worse.”

She held him tighter. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know. The doctors won’t say how long, but he’s getting weaker every day. They say there’s no pain.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Yes, it is.”

“What’s the matter, Khaled?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m so scared. He’s going to die and I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I should have been here. All those years in London, I should have been here, with him, helping him, learning from him.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” she told him earnestly. “Your father agreed. He knew your work was important.”

“Djalil would have been here.”

“You’re not your brother.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

Her heart broke for him. “You’re tired, Khaled, and worried for your father. There’s been a lot to take on board in the last couple of weeks. You need a break.”

“I can’t.”

“Not even a visit to the research center? Couldn’t we take a day, just the two of us, and drive out there? You could show me a dugong.”

He managed a smile at that. “I could, but you’ll be disappointed.”

“Never.”

“I can only take a day. We’ll have to leave early. It’s too far to travel there and back in one day, really, but I’d rather not stay overnight.”

“I understand. It’ll be cooler if we’re not driving during the middle of the day.”

“Yes. Very well, I’ll tell Jamil to make the arrangements.”

“Good.” Still encircled in his arms, she looked up at him. “Better now?”

He dropped a light kiss on her cheek. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Khaled let her go. “I’ll see you early on Saturday, then.”

“Great.”

“And Olivia?”

She turned back to see him grinning at her. “Yes?”

“Don’t forget your bikini.”



Khaled was wearing jeans. Old faded jeans that were perfectly molded around his muscular, lean legs. Jeans that dared Olivia to reach out and touch them and feel their buttery softness for herself.

Not fair, her brain screamed.

It was one thing to have to resist Khaled while he wore his Western-style business suits or his crisp white robes of state. It was quite another to resist him in jeans.